


Unexpectedly Usual Suspects

by Okamichan6942



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-17
Updated: 2008-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okamichan6942/pseuds/Okamichan6942
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins do something unexpected for the mech that took them in after their surprising arrival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpectedly Usual Suspects

**Author's Note:**

> When they first bonded the commanders to Elita, the first indication that anything was going wrong was the emergence of a spark that quickly split after separation. It should not have happened, because normally the contributors must all align their sparks to the hub's at the same time to procreate. The twins' resulting instability from such an unusual sparking convinced the scientists involved in the project that they needed to stop. Plans to continue the project were scratched, but they still utilized the two femmes that had participated as planned.
> 
> This was originally written for Father's Day, even though I don't celebrate it myself.

The twins intercepted Prowl on the way to his office after meeting with Prime. The tactician's optics narrowed at the box under Sideswipe's arm, immediately tensing for something to come flying out of the box (as it had the last time Sideswipe had brought an item into his presence).

"Sideswipe. Sunstreaker," Prowl said by way of greeting.

The two mechs looked at each other for a brief astrosecond just before Sideswipe stumbled forward (by virtue of Sunstreaker's hand on his back, no doubt.). The red twin glared over his shoulder at his brother, before taking another hesitant step forward on his own.

Prowl's doorwings drew up of their own accord, wondering what was making the mech so nervous all of a sudden. Nothing made Sideswipe nervous, not taking on a trine of seekers (or two), nor facing Optimus after wrecking Wheeljack's lab, nor being threatened by Ratchet for the damage he'd suffered. The twins were considered fearless.

"Ah, here ya go, Prowl." The red mech shoved the box at Prowl, nearly holding it to the shorter mech's bumper.

"What is this for, Sideswipe?" Prowl shifted his gaze to include the quieter twin. "Sunstreaker?"

"It's a gift."

Prowl's doorwings angled back, not accepting Sideswipe's answer.

"Slag it, the stupid humans have stupid holidays about honoring their stupid creators," Sunstreaker snarled suddenly, refusing to look at the black and white mech.

"I see. Might I inquire if Optimus also benefited from your generosity?"

Sideswipe squinted his optics at the black and white mech. "Not really. But you've been more of what the humans call a 'Father' than Optimus ever has."

Prowl's doorwings twitched a litle farther, a frown turning his lips down. "Are you attempting to sabotage our relationship with petty jealousy?" He'd seen them pull a similar stunt with two of their other contributors, much to Elita-1's distress.

Wide blue optics stared at him in all innocence, until Sunstreaker finally huffed. "We've been trying for vorn, ever since you and Prime joined your units, and nothing's worked."

"We just want you to know that we—as much as we make your life the Pits, we still appreciate everything you've done for us." Sideswipe tilted the box, attracting Prowl's attention back to it. "Not many would have taken in twins."

"That is an illogical superstition. You never brought any more trouble than two younglings would. I have appreciated the addition you gave to my unit." He took the box from Sideswipe, unwilling to turn away such an unusual gesture from the two mechs, and at the same time he hoped that he wouldn't regret the decision.

Prowl undid the ribbon, and unwrapped the box, aware of the twins' impatient grumbles and flickers of movement. His optics flashed at them, and he allowed himself a slight smirk, amused by their discomfort. He froze as the wrapping fell away, the fine sensors of his fingers detecting the intricate detailings carved on the box.

His optics widened, unable to believe the object in his hand. "Where did you get this?" The words whispered out of his vocalizer, his shock shorting the device out.

"We found it in one of the trashed quarters, but it was missing some pieces, so Sunny contacted someone he knew and had them customized." Sideswipe fidgeted nervously, rubbing his horns and the latch of his rocket launcher.

Sunstreaker simply stood like a silent golden statue, watching Prowl, but his optics flickered in a reflection of his twin's anxiety. "Just fragging open it, so you can make sure everything's there. We've got things to do." A sneer curled his lips. "Unless you want me to take that back, and you can play slagging chess all day with that stupid human."

Prowl glanced at Sunstreaker, a mild frown creasing his face before he obligingly lifted the lid, balancing the box on one hand as he shifted the pieces within. His computer immediately evaluated the contents, and he could tell which were human-crafted, though painstakingly replicated.

He couldn't make sense of it. "Why?" he asked at long length, closing the lid. Prowl tucked the box against his side.

The brothers relaxed, visibly eased by his acceptance of the gift. "We already told you that, Prowl. Is your hearing going bad with your old age?" Sideswipe flashed his incorrigible grin, his optics bright and his hands at ease by his side.

Prowl considered them silently for a long moment, working their words through his processor. Finally he reached out and laid a hand on Sunstreaker's shoulder. Sending the box to subspace, he took Sideswipe's shoulder with his other hand. He gave them both a brief squeeze, meeting their gazes with a bob of his head. "Thank you."

Black and gold hands returned the grip on Prowl's forearms, and a smile ghosted across all three of their faces.

"Happy Father's Day, Dad."

Having worked through all the variables the twins had just thrown him, this one was the proverbial straw on the camel's back.

Prowl froze until he came online in Ratchet's medbay.

"Aww, come on Ratchet, we were just trying to give him a gift! We didn't mean to crash his battle computer."

"Get out, you slagging trash compactors, before I really do turn you into something more useful." The sound of a wrench striking metal, twice, made Prowl wince in sympathy. The medic appeared within his line of sight, irritable frown in place.

"Who-?"

"Who else?" Ratchet snapped, closing Prowl's chestplate. "Those two soon-to-be kitchen utensils carried you in here, and you can't tell me they weren't responsible for your crash."

Prowl didn't deny it. "They were only trying to give me something, I do not believe it was their intention to stall me."

Blue optics narrowed at Prowl. "What do they have that you could possibly want?

Prowl sat up, accepting the hand Ratchet offered if only to touch his partner. He swung his legs over the side of the berth, so that he might face the medic. He pulled the box out of subspace, holding it where Ratchet could see the familiar designs. "Firestorm."

Ratchet's optics widened. "Well, slag..." He took the box, peeking under the lid as though expecting something to jump out. His mouth twisted uncertainly as he handed it back to Prowl.

"I was hoping you would be interested in playing sometime," Prowl kept his tone perfectly neutral, knowing how most felt against matching his skill in strategy games.

Ratchet stared at the box, but slowly, absently nodded. "I'm going to have to apologize to them, aren't I?"

Prowl's doorwings twitched and he nodded, once. "Yes."

"Well... slaggit."


End file.
